


and say that you love me

by gaygerardkeay



Category: Trailer Park Boys
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaygerardkeay/pseuds/gaygerardkeay
Summary: Julian gets shot. Ricky won't leave him alone. Things get pretty good after that, all things considered.•Multi-chapter with some classic hurt / comfort but is mostly just my excuse to write a good ol' fashioned friends-to-lovers fic in my down time. It gets a real happy ending, I promise.





	1. (1) shot thru the heart, or something like that

Julian couldn't breathe. It kinda felt like he'd been punched in the throat but so, so much worse somehow. He tried, desperately, to take a breath but his lungs stubbornly refused to expand. He tried again, exhaling this time, with a weird croaking sound. And still, he couldn't take a breath even though his body was crying out for him to do so.

  
Then there was a hand on his face, big and clumsy, shakily smearing something hot and sticky on the side of his face.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck— Julian!"

Huh. Ricky looks really upset.

Julian's chest hurt like hell as he forced himself to inhale for the first time in what felt like a million fucking years. He cried out, moving to clutch at his fucking aching chest as he wheezed, unaware that his fingers were too numb for him to notice the warmth soaking through his shirt and staining his palm. He was disoriented, his mind reeling with the sheer amount of pain in his chest. He groaned.

Ricky paled above him. His mangled face was full of panic and fear, his eyes reddened by the salty hot tears that spilled freely down his face. Julian grunted and moved to wipe the tears away, being gentle to keep from aggravating the deep bruises blooming rapidly across his best friend's face. As the pad of his thumb swiped against Ricky's cheekbone, he suddenly remembers why he's on the floor.

Julian craned his neck— fuck, that hurts— a little too quickly to look at the man lying deadweight a few feet away with the business end of a crowbar lodged in his skull, surrounded by shattered glass and what might've been a mixture of rum and blood and brain matter. Gross. Instantly, Julian's head swims, like he's being pushed back into water. He didn't even realize his eyes had rolled back and his hand on Ricky's face had gone limp until Ricky was manhandling him awake and pain pulsed through his whole body.

He made a noise somewhere between a wince and a groan.

"No, nope, no— you can't fuck out on me yet, Julian." Ricky stammered, his mouth moving far too fast for his poor brain, as it often did. "Somebody's coming— but that doesn't even matter because I've got you, Jules." He said. "I love you so much, man. I've got you. I'm here."

All of this was his fault. His best friend was going to die and it was all his fault.

A little less than an hour ago, Ricky had been at the trailer by himself, raiding Julian's snacks, when the door (which was unlocked anyway because Julian was supposed to be coming back with pizza) was kicked in with an awful noise. Some asshole in a suit and tie, high out of his goddamned mind, pointed a gun at Ricky's head as he screamed about Cyrus and demanded to know where he was.

At first, Ricky got smart, even with the barrel of a gun barely four feet from his face, but the guy was high off his ass and pissed as hell, and he got angrier with every second that ticked by. He bashed Ricky's knee in with the crowbar Julian kept near the back door- for protection, ironically- and kicked him in the face once he was down. The junkie's blood was at a boiling point and any time Ricky could catch his breath long enough to try and tell him he really didn't know anything, things got even worse.

Julian had walked in on Ricky getting pistol whipped across the face and instantly lost his temper. He'd dropped everything he was holding, even his half-full glass of rum, and grabbed the discarded crowbar, but by the time the guy realized he was there and turned to face him it was too late.

Ricky fucking sobs when Julian opens his mouth, probably to try and comfort him, but all he could manage was a weak cough. There was blood in his beard. There was blood goddamn everywhere.

Ricky held onto Julian like he was the only thing in the world worth having, even as Julian's breathing grew shallow and quiet, even as his chest grew still beneath Ricky's hand, and even when Ricky couldn't shake him awake anymore.

Ricky's grip on Julian never faltered, his hand never wavered from keeping pressure on the bullet wound in Julian's chest, not even while Ricky's whole body grew heavy with the gravity of the situation. His head got all slow and hazey, feeling so out of it and yet too aware all at the same time, a hell of a combination. So he didn't notice the red lights when they started flashing in the windows of the trailer, and he didn't hear the blaring sirens or the sound of footsteps over the blood rushing in his ears and his heart screaming Julian, Julian, Julian with each beat. Ricky held Julian until a first responder asked him to step away for the second time.

  
He tensed up for a split second— his chest burning hot because he wants to yell that he's not going any-fucking-where, that this is his best friend in the whole world he's holding in his arms and that he's not going to lose him— before the man took him by the shoulders, his hands so gentle, and said: "Ricky, we're going to help your friend. We need you to step aside so we can do that."

There's a beat.

"Right." Ricky choked out, his voice oddly quiet and foreign to his own ringing ears. Another long moment passed before he can actually bring himself to unstick from Julian's side, people already moving in to help. "Be— be careful with him though, yeah?" He adds quickly. 

The man gave him a smile— which isn't very comforting— and squeezed his shoulders slightly— which is more so— and then turned to help Julian.

Ricky had to look away because he's so afraid and he just knows that he'll fuck it up somehow and Julian won't survive this bullshit because of him.  
Hell, Julian wouldn't even be in this mess to begin with if it weren't for him. That seemed to be a reoccurring thing for them.

Ricky knew what it felt like to get shot. Not in the chest, maybe, but he knew it fucking sucks.

The pain in his face suddenly skyrockets and it took him longer than he'd like to admit before he realized it's because he's crying. Full-on sobbing, actually.

Julian got shot because of him.

Julian was going to die because of him.

He tried to shake that thought away, but his gaze lands on the body of the junkie lying lifeless a few feet away, and realization finally sets in. His mind freezes over.

  
Ricky makes a strangled noise in his chest that dies a second later in his throat, and for the umpteenth time that night he thought he might really be suffocating.

Ricky barely gets out of the trailer in time. He puked into the grass as he fell to his knees in the driveway, the skin on his palms and his knees beneath his jeans breaking against the gravel. His whole body hurts; his hands and knees hurt, his face hurts, his throat hurts, and his chest hurts worst of all.

He screams his voice raw, mostly because he doesn't know what else to do, but also because he's really hurting both physically and mentally. And because he's losing his best friend in the whole world. And because he thinks that if he doesn't scream he's going to fall apart.

He didn't realize there were first responders at his side until there is.

•

"Trevor, no! Get your hand off him, I don't want him waking up to fry grease on his face!"

"He just looks so... peaceful."

"Don't say that, Corey. That's something you say about dead people and Julian's not dead."

"Oh! Uh, I— I just mean that... well, Julian always looks good but this is the best he's looked in a couple days, y'know?"

"Yeah, that's true."

"Would you all stop bothering him? He's trying to rest!" Ricky hissed, flinging his rock-hard hospital bed pillow at the trio gathered around Julian's bed and hitting Trevor square in the face.

  
"Sorry, Ricky." Corey said, pointedly nudging Trevor's ribs with his elbow as Trevor raised the pillow to throw it back at him.

Trevor scowled but desisted nonetheless, and laid the pillow across Julian's lap instead.

Bubbles shook his head and motioned for them to step out into the hallway before walking over to Ricky's bed, taking his hand without the IV line in it.

The room was a little small, but that was okay. At first, Ricky and Julian had been placed in separate rooms, but after the first round of sedatives had worn off Ricky pitched such a monumental bitch fit that they moved him into Julian's room. Ricky really appreciated that, even if he couldn't find the right words to say it over the thick, med-induced fog in his brain.

Bubbles had been there ever since Ricky came to.

Lucy had visited a couple times, too. She'd fussed about the whole thing at first; about Ricky getting beaten until he saw stars, and about Julian getting shot by that fucking suit-and-tie junkie, fussed about this and that. Ricky was mostly out of it then. But, while he missed his daughter terribly, they'd both agreed early on that Trinity shouldn't come and see Ricky until Julian was awake too. Trinity loved Julian— they all did, really— but she was just a baby and Ricky wanted to protect her.  
There was a get-well card for each of them in Trinity's handwriting on their bedside tables.

Honestly, Ricky didn't remember too much after getting into the ambulance with Julian and the EMTs. He thought he might've freaked out a little too much when they said something about getting Julian into surgery, but everything over the past couple days had been such a fucking blur. All he knew for sure was that, after that, he couldn't remember anything else until he woke up in the hospital. That, and that Julian still wasn't awake.

Bubbles had been by his bedside then, and had remained there since, holding Ricky's hand and trying to make sure he was comfortable. Or as comfortable as he could be, all things considered.

And Bubbles checked in frequently with the nurses about Julian's condition, even without Ricky's insistence.

Nobody in this goddamn hospital would give them a straight answer about what happened to Julian in surgery or when he'd wake up, something about confidentiality or some bullshit like that. In the beginning, a nurse had told them that while Julian was in critical condition he'd be on very powerful medication to keep him comfortable and that he'd wake up on his own when he was stable enough to do so.

Ricky still wasn't sure if it really worked that way or if they were just lying to him to keep him calm after he freaked out his first night there but he didn't know enough about any of it to argue anyway so instead he just... waited.

Too much waiting.

Sometimes, when Ricky was drifting in and out of sleep, Bubbles would wander over to Julian's bed and sit with him for a while. He'd whisper quietly to him— things Ricky couldn't make out over the beeping of the machines around them— as he held Julian's hand and stroked his hair.

Ricky wished he could do that. He'd give anything. But the combo of sedatives and painkillers made it damn near impossible to get out of the bed, let alone move to Julian's. Hell, he'd fallen ass-over-teakettle on the first night because he'd tried to get up to go take a leak but as soon as he'd started to stand up his still-aching knees just gave out. Maybe that was the point of being on the meds, but really? It was still a hassle.

  
"How're you feeling, Ricky?" Bubbles asked, handing him a paper cup of half-melted ice chips.

  
"Can't really feel anything." Ricky grimaced. "Except the headache Corey and Trevor gave me."

  
"Well..." Bubbles made a noise of agreement. "Oh, the nurse will be coming by soon. You want some food or something? Something to drink?" He asked, reaching over to straighten up the gift shop plushie he'd bought for Ricky the night before.

It was a floppy-eared brown and white dog with big blue eyes that held a red heart that said "I Woof You" in big letters. (Ricky had secretly named him Julian.)

"No." Ricky answered, chewing absently at the ice chips. "But will you ask them if they'll change Julian's baggy thing? It's getting low." He said, and gestured to Julian's IV drip.

"Of course, Ricky."

Ricky let his eyes linger on Julian, his heart wrenching in his chest as he waited futilely for Julian to look back at him.  


Julian always looked back at him. Ricky missed that.

"I sure wish he'd wake up."

"Yeah. I do, too." Ricky sighed. His hand received a reassuring squeeze.

•

On the fourth day, Ricky was allowed out of his bed as long as he carted his IV line with him. It was a little annoying and pretty damn difficult to get used to, sure, but it didn't matter because now he could be closer to Julian.

As soon as he had the go ahead from the nurse, he'd immediately parked himself in the chair next to Julian's bed and that was where he'd been all day.

Bubbles was asleep in the chair on the other side of the room, he'd dozed off about an hour ago, after being awake for a solid 24 hours. Ricky had been tempted to tell him to take his bed at first but he didn't have the heart to wake him after all he'd done for them.

"'I think you’re a fool!' Laughed the sour kangaroo and the young kangaroo in her pouch said, 'Me, too! You’re the biggest blame fool in the Jungle of Nool!'" Ricky read quietly from the book in his lap, just like he did with Trinity, complete with all the funny voices and everything. "And the kangaroos plunged in the cool of the pool. 'What terrible splashing!' The elephant frowned. 'I can’t let my very small person get drowned, I’ve got to protect them. I’m bigger than they.' So he plucked up the clover and hustled away."

Ricky stopped then because he thought, for a brief moment, that he felt Julian's fingers twitch against his own. He wouldn't admit it but his heart dropped in his chest at that thought and he might've started crying on the spot if it hadn't.

  
"You don't like this one, eh?" Ricky hummed, more quiet than he'd ever been. He set the book aside and took off his glasses. He sighed as he rubbed at his eyes, fighting off the exhaustion the best he could with a cocktail of painkillers and anxiety pills swimming around in his system. He was finally allowed to be next to Julian and he didn't want to waste it by going back to sleep. He'd been asleep far too much.

Ricky sighed again, then groaned slightly. He pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes for a moment longer, until the pain started to seethe and he began seeing spots, and then he looked back up at Julian.

It was funny. Ricky had always thought of Julian as being so strong and indestructible. And now he seemed so fragile, like any sharp movement could shatter him like precious glass.

Somehow though, he was still alive, and for that, Ricky considered himself the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. But the pain and sadness of it all, of having Julian so close and so far away, was slowly killing him.

"I love you, man." Ricky said, taking Julian's hand in both of his own and squeezing. "I dunno if you can hear me or anything, but... I miss you, Julian. We all do. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry you got shot trying to—" Ricky paused, his voice wavering. "I'm not worth all of this. If you come back to me you can't be doing shit like this for me, not ever again. It should've been me, Jules."

There was no reply to be had beyond the steady beeping of the monitors behind him.

Ricky really wished there was.


	2. (2) sweet, sweet emotion

Six days in a hospital will drive you a little crazy.

  
Ricky had been pacing the room for the last hour, limping the whole way, the squeaky sound of wheels on the impeccably clean tile following him as he pulled his IV cart with him. He wanted to complain that he was too sober for this but it'd kinda be a lie. He'd woken up in a panic attack the night before after dreaming about... that night. So the nurses had given him an extra dose of anxiety meds on top of what he was already taking because he hated hospitals. 

Truth be told, this was the least sober Ricky had been in a few days now.

"What are we supposed to tell them when they come back?" Corey asked, his eyes wide and his knuckles turning white around the bouquet of flowers he'd brought for Julian.

"We didn't know what to tell them so we just asked them to come back tomorrow because we were visiting you guys." Trevor said as he glances between Ricky and Bubbles, both of whom were dealing with the stress of the situation in their own way.

Ricky was pacing, popping his knuckles, and really jonesing for a joint, while Bubbles was chewing on his lip and running his hands through his hair nervously.

"Julian didn't mean to kill that guy. We all know that, right?" Ricky stopped abruptly. He glanced at each of them, who all nodded in obvious agreement.

"Of course not!" Corey exclaimed, struggling to keep his voice down. He started to shake a bit, maybe in anger or anxiousness, or both. He jumped when Trevor put a hand on his shoulder, but leaned into the touch only a second later. "He was just— he was just protecting you. I mean, Ricky, that guy was beating the hell of you, man!"

  
Ricky gestured to his own fucked-up face, the boot print on his jaw just now beginning to turn a sickly green. "No shit!"

"So, uh, just tell them the truth." Bubbles suggested.

"That's a terrible idea."

"Ricky!" Bubbles sighed in exasperation. "You don't have anything to lie about, Julian was just protecting you and his home, that's self-defense!"

"Y'think so, huh?" Ricky made a noise. "Jules and I have records. Drug possession, destruction of property, DUI, public intoxication, possession of stolen goods, breaking and entering— you really think they're gonna see that fuckin' list and take our word for it that the guy was tripping balls and tried to kill me in Julian's living room?"

Corey and Trevor exchanged a wide-eyed look of fear.

"That's not fair." Bubbles said quietly, his hands in trembling fists at his sides.

"No, it's not." Ricky agreed, scratching at his unshaven facial hair, hating how uneven it felt. "But that's how it is. So, when the pigs come 'round again, and they will, you have to make sure they focus on Cyrus and the junkie that was lookin' for him who bashed my face in and shot Julian in his own home."

Corey, Trevor, and Bubbles all nod again.

The room fell silent for a long moment, the heaviness of the situation bearing down on them all. Just because they knew that Julian was acting in self-defense didn't mean that anyone else would see it that way.

"Alright— well, bring it in, boys." Ricky said, pulling the three into a comforting group hug. He soothed them all in turn, reassuring them that it'd be okay. Honestly, he wasn't sure of that, but be damned if he wasn't convincing.

Besides, if it really came down to it, Ricky knew how to talk to the police to get them to listen to him. They were fucking dumb, and that was something Ricky understood. It was just a matter of who could lie better and Ricky had the upper hand because he'd been doing that exact thing his whole life.

"Right now, Julian's our number one priority."

  
There was a groan from behind them. "Ricky, man, close your gown."

Ricky whips around so quickly that it hurt his neck, but the pain dissipated as soon as he saw Julian's familiar- tired- blue eyes looking back at him. Holy shit, had he missed the blue of Julian's eyes.

  
"Julian!" His best friend's name had barely left his lips before he'd almost taken out the hospital bed railing in his haste to hug Julian. "You little bitch! I thought you died!"

"Ricky, ow!" Julian wheezed, shutting his eyes tight against the bright hospital fluorescents as Ricky held him tight and shook against him.

  
Bubbles was at their side in an instant, the joy of seeing Julian manifesting itself in a kiss at the top of his head.

"Julian's back!" Corey dropped the flowers in his excitement, pulling Trevor into a ferocious hug, which was enthusiastically returned.

"Didn't bury me yet, I see." Julian deadpanned.

  
Ricky pulled back and cuffed him directly on the shoulder. "Shut the fuck up, eh! You scared us to death!"

Julian cried out as he clutched at his injured shoulder. And then he had the balls to laugh about it like Ricky and Bubbles and Corey and Trevor and every-fucking-body hadn't been worrying themselves sick over him for days now.

"That's not funny, Julian!" Bubbles said, nudging him as well— although, considerably more gentle than Ricky had.

"It is." He argued, settling back into his mountain of pillows (and Julian the plush dog) with a tired smile. "You don't know how glad I am to see you guys." He said, suddenly sincere.

Ricky's chest ached and he went back in for another hug, with Bubbles right behind him this time. Corey and Trevor joined in too, each crowding in behind Ricky and Bubbles.

Ricky didn't have it in him to be mad at Julian, not really. He was just so goddamn glad to see him awake.

Julian grunted but he didn't tell them off. They probably wouldn't have listened even if he did. So instead, he just leaned up into the hug as much as he could.

Julian gave them a minute longer before he shifted slightly, reaching to adjust his nasal cannula. "Okay, everyone back up, someone's stepping on my oxygen."

"Oh, sorry."

"How... how do you feel?" Trevor asked hesitantly, handing the flowers over to him.

"Like I got shot." Julian replied unceremoniously. His face blanked as he looked at the bouquet of flowers, but then his features smoothed over and he picked out a light pink peony from the bundle, looking at it as he thought. "I'm sore and mostly-sober and I'm really, really hungry."

"I'll go find a nurse." Bubbles said. "Corey, Trevor, will you guys call everybody and let them know Julian's awake?"

Ricky felt Julian stiffen next to him. Without a word, he let his hand drop from the top of the pillow to the back of Julian's hair, a silent and comforting touch that Julian might've subconsciously leaned into.

"Uh, maybe just Sara and Lucy for now." Ricky said, pretending not to notice the way Julian glanced up at him gratefully. "It's late and I'm tired and we don't want the whole park in here right before bed."

"Right." Bubbles agreed, following Corey and Trevor out.

Ricky sat down in the chair he'd claimed next to Julian's bed, placing the bundle of flowers Corey had picked out into a vase on the bedside table.

"Thanks, Ricky." Julian said.

Ricky grinned at him, shrugging it off. He felt like it was the least he could do. It was his fault Julian was in here in the first place. At that, a sharp wave of guilt seizes his chest in a vice grip and he coughs, rubbing at his sternum to try and ease the feeling.

"Rick?" Julian said, turning his head to the side to face Ricky. He was still pale as a ghost but there was a bit of color in his cheeks and he looked more alive now than he had in days.

"Hmm?"

Julian hesitated, the muscles in his jaw flexing. 

"What the hell happened?"

Ricky's shoulders fell with a heavy sigh. He knew it was coming. He ran his hand without the IV through his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. He didn't know what to do with his hands.  
Maybe some part of him was hoping that Julian wouldn't ask him that. "You got shot, Julian."

"Yeah, I got that part." Julian said, surprisingly genuine, and motioned for him to continue.

"Uh... some junkie kicked the door to your trailer in. He was high as shit, waving a gun around, asking where Cyrus was. And obviously I don't fuckin' know where he is, but every time I tried to tell him that the guy just got angrier and angrier and then—" Ricky's voice shook dangerously and then died out. His knee bounced wildly as he recounted what happened, images of Julian bleeding out on the floor flooding his brain and making it so hard to remember.

"Ricky, man, breathe."

Ricky's eyes landed on Julian again for a second and he gasped as he inhaled, realizing that he hadn't taken a breath since he started talking. He jerked when he felt something against his face, but relaxed when he realized it was just Julian's thumb wiping tears from his cheekbones. Just like when he'd gotten shot. Wait, shit, when had he started crying?

  
It was kinda nice, though. Having Julian comfort him. It reminded Ricky of when they were kids, and whenever he'd get hurt Julian would be at his side to wipe the tears from his eyes with the end of his sleeve and get Ricky to look up at him instead of at his scraped knee or the gravel in his palm or whatever else it happened to be that day.

  
It took Ricky a good few minutes to recover his voice after that. "And I guess you must've walked in on him whaling on me or something because you grabbed your crowbar and swung it at him. The gun went off, and..."

Julian sighed heavily, shutting his eyes.

"Why did you do that?"

Julian blinked and looked back at him, his eyebrows furrowed inquisitively. "Do what?"

"Why did you step in?" Ricky asked.

"Uh, because he was beating you to death?" Julian replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and Ricky wanted to fucking smack him.

  
Ricky stood up abruptly— fuck, that hurt!— his chair toppling over behind him. His knee screamed at him, pain throbbing through his whole leg and pulsing up his spine. "I could've taken it, Julian!"

  
"Christ, Ricky, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you getting shot for me, you fucker!" He hissed. "You should've just let him bash my brains out." Ricky smacked a hand to the side of his head for emphasis, his vision going blurry.

Julian's glaring up at him dangerously when it stops. Without a warning, he grips the front of Ricky's gown and pulls him so close their faces are almost touching. "Ricky, just shut the fuck up. I'd do anything for you."

"You shouldn't." Ricky whispered, glancing away for a split second because he suddenly can't handle the way Julian is looking at him. Like he'd do anything for Ricky without a second thought. His throat tightens. "I should've been the one that got shot, Jules."

"No."

"Julian." Ricky pleads, his hand coming up to wrap loosely around Julian's wrist at his chest. "Man, you barely lived through this."

Julian softens the way he only ever does for Ricky as his hand moves from Ricky's chest up to his jaw. The tension slowly drains out of his shoulders and his eyes go soft. "If it'd been you that got shot, I wouldn't have."

Ricky stopped breathing just before Julian released the front of his gown. He stumbles back a bit, his lower half having been bent awkwardly over the railing of the hospital bed.

Anything Ricky was about to say or do gets caught somewhere between his chest and his throat as the door to the room is pushed open and Bubbles enters with two nurses and Julian's doctor in tow.

"Mr. Lafleur, it's good you're awake! You gave us quite a scare."

Julian stared blankly up at the doctor, confusion knitting his brows together.

"Oh!" Bubbles chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly when everyone in the room turned to look at him. "Julian, they needed a last name to go on their file when I was checking you in, but I couldn't come up with anything that sounded okay so I used Ricky's."

Ricky stood stone still in his place, even though he can feel Julian look at him pointedly, as if that was his fault. He really wanted to melt into the floor in that moment but seeing that that wasn't an option, he settles for the next best thing.

  
"I gotta take a piss." He announced, grabbing his IV cart and making a beeline for the bathroom.  
Ricky didn't really have to take a piss.

•

"Cardiac arrest? Cardiac arrest?!" Ricky echoed. "Goddammit, Julian! Goddammit!"

Julian groans long and loud, his hands coming up to push his hair back in frustration. "Ricky, would you stop fucking yelling at me? It's been an hour! I just want to go to sleep!"

Bubbles is on the other side of the room, exasperated and exhausted, and holding his head in his hands. The boys had been screaming at each other ever since the doctor had given Julian an update— or, well, Ricky was screaming and occasionally Julian would get mad and scream back.

Previously unknown to any of them except for the hospital staff, Julian had gone into cardiac arrest during the surgery to remove the bullet.

Ricky hadn't been handling it well at all.

"You son of a bitch! If I wasn't so full of pain pills and sediment, I'd—"

"Sedative!" Corey called out from his place in the corner with Trevor, who'd had his hands over his ears for the last 40 minutes.

"What-the-fuck-ever!"

Julian turned sharply to look at him. "What're you gonna do? Beat my ass, Rick? For getting shot?"

  
"You're goddamn right!" Ricky shouted, promptly getting hit in the face with a pillow. "That's it!"

  
"Boys—" Bubbles began, too tired to stand up.

But it was too late anyway, Ricky was already up and out of his bed. His knees buckled, and he would've collided with the floor— shit, that woulda hurt— had it not been for the railing on Julian's bed catching him.

"Ricky, holy shit, get off of me!" Julian wheezed, yelping when Ricky kneed him— hard— in the thigh in an attempt to get over the railing to reach Julian. "Rick! Fuck! That's my leg!"

The door to their room flew open, and a furious nurse entered a second later. Behind her was a concerned-looking Lucy and a slightly amused Sara.

Julian had Ricky in a half-hearted headlock while Ricky squirmed like a pissed off cat in his lap. Neither of their hearts were really in the fight and so both men stilled when the nurse rounded on them.

Bubbles looked tired. And Corey and Trevor were gone.

"Mr. and Mr. Lafleur— please keep it down!" The nurse whispered angrily, her cheeks red with irritation. "Our patients cannot rest with you two in here fighting!" She said, smoothing out her blue floral scrubs to compose herself. "If I have to come back in here one more time, there will be no Jell-O with tomorrow's lunch."

Bubbles glared silently at them while Lucy and Sara exchanged a look.

"Sorry."

Julian released Ricky, who slowly got out of his bed, his back popping twice as he did so.

  
The nurse softened. "Thank you." She said. "No more fighting, please." She added, looking at both of them before leaving the room.

The door clicked as it shut, and Bubbles, Lucy, and Sara all looked at them both for a long moment.

"So... Mr. and Mr. Lafleur, huh?" Sara said with raised eyebrows as she obviously resisted the urge to laugh. Lucy nudged her.

"Oh, piss off." Ricky muttered, turning to go back to his own bed.

"Ricky, Jesus Christ, close your gown!"

"I'm wearing underwear!"


	3. (3) "no one needs you more than I need you"

Ricky takes care of Julian.

That's what he's always done because that's what he's always wanted to do.

He'd helped Julian out of bed the first time two nights ago, and then every other time after that. He brought him snacks from the vending machine whenever he'd gone a while without eating anything because they both agreed that the hospital food sucked. He'd turn the TV on whenever Julian was having trouble sleeping because the noise soothed him. And he made Julian's bed while he showered, exactly he was doing now, in fact.

Ricky had finally managed to talk Bubbles into going home for a little while, if only to sleep in his own bed with his beloved cats. He deserved a break after all, and now that Ricky had healed up a little bit more he could be the one to look after Julian.

It turned out that Ricky was a surprisingly good caretaker. He was incredibly patient, kind, compassionate, and he actually liked doing seemingly tedious things to keep himself occupied. It made it harder to think about the shitty circumstances of why they were in here in the first place.

Fucking Cyrus. Ricky huffed to himself as he changed Julian's pillowcase. He wanted to bash Cyrus' face in for all they had to go through. Ricky thought his face might never look the same. 

"Ricky, have you seen my shirt?" Julian asked.

Ricky glanced up at him. Or, well, he'd meant to glance up at him. But Julian was standing there shirtless, his dark hair still slightly damp and wavy from the shower, and Ricky was sure his brain had blown a fuse. He couldn't look away. Shit, he wasn't sure he wanted to look away. He just stared at him, taking in his broad shoulders and his collarbone, watching Julian's exposed chest rising and falling with every breath he took. At least twice, his eyes climbed up the thick patch of hair on Julian's stomach to wandered over the expanse of his love handles.

Holy shit. 

"Rick?" 

He blinked, his eyes finally meeting Julian's. "Sorry, man, I'm tripping." He lied so easily it scared him. "What'd you say?" 

"My shirt." Julian repeated as he rolled his eyes. "You know, if they catch you high on dope in here they're gonna tear you a new one." He pointed out. 

Ricky scoffed, trying not to acknowledge the fact that his mouth was watering like a leaky faucet. "They're the ones who gave me a morphine drip." He said. "Shirt's on the other side of my bed."

Julian made a noise of agreement. "I need a drink." He said, pulling on his black t-shirt.

Ricky did not look at the way Julian's back moved as he did. Not directly, anyway. 

"I'm so ready to go home." Julian sighed, trying to run a comb through his hair but hissing sharply because he was too sore to raise his arm that far.

"Jules—" Ricky quickly stopped what he's doing and walks over to Julian, glancing at his shoulder as he neared him.

"I'm okay, Ricky." Julian assured him. "Just sore."

It was Ricky's turn to sigh. "Let me do it?"

Julian stared at him. "Ricky—" 

"Julian."

Julian didn't protest further as he handed the comb to Ricky and sat down on the edge of his bed to make it easier.

Ricky pushed the comb through Julian's hair, away from his face and behind his ears, mimicking the way he'd seen Julian style his hair after a shower. Every once in a while he'd use his fingers in place of the comb, silently reveling in the feeling of Julian's dark locks between his fingers. 

Julian was so... soft.

Julian huffs out a laugh, and for a second Ricky worries he might've said that out loud, but Julian was perfectly calm under his hands, his eyes closed and his head tilted slightly up.

"Remember when we were kids and you'd fall asleep petting my hair whenever you slept over?" Julian asked, grinning. "You said it reminded you of a dog." He laughed.

Ricky snorted. "You hated it!" He reminded.

Julian laughed again, opening his eyes at last. "Nah." He said, the honesty of his reply hitting Ricky like a train. "I didn't."  
He stood up, quietly taking the comb from a dumbfounded Ricky and going back to his own bed.

•

Monday. 

Ricky was getting discharged from the hospital, whatever that meant.

He was not, however, handling it with any sort of grace. 

"I had Bubbles bring by some fresh laundry for you." Ricky said, rushing around the hospital room in a way that made his head spin. "I left money for the vending machine because I don't want you eating that shit the hospital gives you. And I swapped out your pillows this morning because I'm worried about your back, and—"

"Ricky." Julian said, making Ricky stop pacing so he was sure he had his attention. "I'm fine. I'm going to be out of here in a day or two anyway and in the meantime I've got Bubbles if I need anything."

"Yeah, but—" Ricky started, but fell silent as Julian held up his hand.

"Go home, Rick." Julian said, shifting one leg over the other in his chair. "Trinity misses you, man. Trina misses you. Hell, even Corey and Trevor miss you."

Ricky made a face.

Julian struggled not to laugh. "You can stay at my trailer. Bubbles has the keys so grab them on your way out."

Begrudgingly, Ricky relented. "Alright, but call me if you need me."

"I won't." Julian replied.

Ricky cuffed his shoulder. "I'm serious, Jules!" He said, pointing at him.

"Ricky." Julian said calmly. "Go home."

On his way out, Ricky stopped to stand next to Bubbles. "Take care of him. And, seriously, call if you need me." He said, glancing back at Julian, who was nose-deep in a book. "He likes the TV on at night."

"I'm not a dog, Ricky." Julian said calmly, not looking up from his book.

Ricky closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. "You sure can hear like one though, eh?" He shot back over his shoulder. He made a face at Bubbles, who had to refrain from grinning.

Bubbles passed the keys to Julian's trailer over to Ricky, clasping his hand. "I've got him, Ricky." He assured him.

Ricky nodded and glanced back at Julian once more before he made his way to the outpatient center.  
He felt like he should be more excited about being able to go back to the trailer park but there was something nagging at the back of his mind and, just like always, it was about Julian. 

"Don't worry," the nurse at the outpatient center said as she bandaged his left elbow where she'd drawn blood for paperwork, "we'll take care of your husband."

Ricky blinked. "Oh, he's not my—" He stopped.

She looked at him.

Ricky glances, as if he's about to get caught at whatever it is he's about to say. "Make sure he's using his cane to walk? I keep telling him that's what it's there for but he doesn't listen." He said. "And if I have to come back here because he fell trying to take a piss in the middle of the night I'm going to be so mad—"

She chuckled. "Your husband must be a lucky guy to have someone who cares so much about him." She noted.

"Ain't that the truth." Ricky sighed, exasperated. He stood up, gathering his discharge papers.

•

The whole way home, Ricky kept thinking about Julian. About how weird it'd be to be back in his trailer without Julian there. About how stubborn Julian always was. About how the hospital staff had, apparently, thought they were married the whole time they were there.

Mostly, though, he thought about how much it sucked to be away from him.

Ricky thought about that even as he stepped into the trailer, rattling the bottle of anxiety medication just for the noise of doing so. The nurse at the outpatient center said that the meds would help him cope with everything that had happened. Ricky wasn't sure about that, but he'd taken the prescription anyway. He figured that if it did turn out to be bullshit, he'd just hock them.

Ricky flipped the light switch. His mind recoiled. He froze, shutting his eyes tight against the dim living room light. He wasn't sure why he did that. Why did he do that? 

Because there's blood on the floor. 

He heard himself answer, although he hadn't moved at all. 

Ricky's breathing hitched. He was paralyzed by fear, ice cold and slowly slithering up his spine. The last time he was in here he'd been beaten within an inch of his life. Julian nearly lost his.

Ricky slowly opened his eyes. The bloodstain on the floor taunted him. Even if it was dry as a bone by now it was still far too fresh in Ricky's mind.

Ricky started to back out of the trailer, his heart racing in his chest. He stopped at the threshold. He felt trapped by a cage of his own design, too afraid to stay, and too afraid to leave. 

Ricky stared blankly at the dried blood on the floor, his heart and his brain screaming at him to leave. Leave, before he couldn't.

Ricky's hands trembled as he unscrewed his bottle of pills and pushed one out into his palm.


	4. (4) from some other beginning's end

"Why haven't you been home, Ricky?" Lucy huffed, chasing Ricky across Julian's trailer as he moved the living room furniture around.

Ricky had been on a cleaning fritz since he'd gotten out of the hospital and gone back to Julian's, trying so hard to rid the trailer of every bad memory that entered his mind of that night. He just wanted things to be nice for Julian. Because Ricky knew that no matter how hard it was for him, it had to be harder for Julian. And he didn't want that.

But then Lucy had stopped by and Ricky hadn't gotten much cleaning done since then. She demanded to know why he hadn't come home, why he hadn't even stopped by to tell her he'd been discharged, why he was avoiding her, why this, why that. And it wasn't like Ricky had any answers for her about any of it! It just felt wrong. It all felt so wrong.

"I don't know!" Ricky groaned, raking his hands through his disheveled hair recklessly. "I just feel like this is where I need to be. I need to be at Julian's right now." He said.

"You're not even gonna come see Trinity?" She scoffed.

"Trinity came by earlier, we watched a movie on the couch and ate leftover pizza." He said offhandedly, moving the fan into the window and turning it on high.

"What?" Lucy said, deliberately standing in his way as he turned back around.

Ricky almost groaned again. He didn't have the energy for this right now. "Lucy, what do you want? You kicked me out in the first place!" He reminded her, somewhat bitterly.

She faltered noticeably, her arms uncrossing from her chest to fall meekly at her sides. "Yeah... but you've never taken me seriously before." She said, almost lightheartedly. 

Ricky wasn't in the mood. There was a heaviness that had settled into his heart long before Lucy had come over unannounced but this was just making it so much worse. "Can you get out, please? I need to finish cleaning and this whole place is gonna smell like bleach soon. I know you hate that." He said instead. 

Lucy stared up at him. It almost looked like she was going to reply, maybe yell at him, or cry, but she never did. She just grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and left. 

Ricky's chest fell with a sigh after her. The weight in his heart was still there but it was also... weirdly lighter now. And he didn't have the brain power, or the sobriety, to figure out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this update is short but I have a much lengthier one on the way. this had to happen at some point, y'know? I don't like loose ends!


	5. (5) feeling more human

Julian wasn't the clingy type. 

Okay, well, that was a lie. 

In his defense, childhood abandonment had really fucked him up, alright?

Point is, as hard as it was to get Ricky out the door in the first place, it was even harder for Julian to watch him go- even despite the fact that he had encouraged him to. And bullshit aside, Julian was a grown-ass man and Ricky had a wife and a kid who needed him around. 

Hospitals were fucking boring though. As grateful as Julian was for Bubbles and all he did, he was so fucking sick of lying in bed and watching TV all the time. 

Well... save for therapy. 

Ryan was Julian's appointed therapist from an inpatient program that didn't manage for much other than to get Julian out of his room for an hour every day after lunch and, hey, beggars can't be choosers.

Julian liked him because the first time they met, Ryan made him sit through the last minute and a half of Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" before they started the session. 

And he didn't pussyfoot. He told Julian when he was acting like a dick and he made it clear that he didn't believe in compassionate lies. And he was the first one to actually break down what being shot meant for Julian and how his body would remember that, as well as going into cardiac arrest, even if his mind didn't.

"It's like... phantom pains." Ryan explained. "You ever had those?"

Julian rubbed at his chest absently. "Yeah." More so these days.

"See, your body is going to remember this whole thing whether you consciously remember it or not. So if you ever find yourself in a situation that triggers that same desperate fight or flight response from your body, it'll react accordingly." Ryan said. "And you don't get to pick what triggers you because life's a bitch like that." He grinned.

Julian chuckled, finally letting his hand fall from his chest back to his lap. "How do I fix it?"

Ryan shrugged. "You don't. It's not something that can be 'fixed' like that, it's just something that is. You just take care of yourself." He said. "You're gonna have good days and you're gonna have real bad days and your goal is to get yourself through each day."

The darker haired man nodded silently. It was a lot to take in at once, but Ryan made it make sense. 

"Treat yourself the way you would treat a child. Always be gentle and kind and forgiving to yourself." Ryan softened. "Recovery is a constant uphill battle and it is... so worth it. You are so worth it. You deserve to have a good life."

Julian let his gaze drop to the floor. 

"You do." Ryan reiterated. "Hour's up in ten minutes. You wanna walk back to your room? I'll show you pictures of my baby."

"You got a kid?" Julian asked, looking up from the floor.

"Oh. No, I meant my car."

"Huh. Sure."


End file.
